Five Ways Avatar Aang Never Saved The World
by Sabrina Empress of Insanity
Summary: Five short stories that never happened to Aang.


_Author's Note: My sincerest apologies for being a little angst bunny. I'm known more for my happy fluff and I certainly prefer to write that sort of stuff, but... dunno, these ideas wouldn't leave me. So we get Avatar angst. I hope it's good enough to make up for the sadness..._

**Five Ways Avatar Aang Never Saved the World**

_I._

Monk Gyatso had told him to be careful. _This isn't just a gift, Aang. It is a tool, a weapon, and a way to help you grow as an Airbender all in one. _He wasn't sure yet how all of this could be true, but his seven-year-old brain had latched on to one thing; this would make him fly.

And so there he stood in the pale, sunless light of predawn, feeling the air around him as he had been taught and trying not to let his excitement overwhelm him. As he opened the glider and leapt from the balcony, the joy was almost too much to bear.

He was really flying!

He circled for what felt like hours as the sun peeked shyly over the horizon, then began its hesitant rise into the sky. He swooped, glided, practically swam through the air and the mild breeze. It was wonderful. It was exhilarating. It was everything.

He wanted more.

The wind came fast, too fast…he hadn't meant to call anything so strong. _How had he called something so strong?_ It screamed through the windows of the temple and ripped the monks from their rest with a violence that had all of them hurrying outside to see what had happened. Only the youngest and fastest were there to watch the wooden supports snap on the glider, to see the holes appear in the fans as the wind punched small pieces of debris through them, and to see the young, unknowing Avatar plummet from the sky, too far away to see the absolute terror in his eyes.

None of them wanted to see what remained on the rocks below when it was over.

_II._

They couldn't do this to him!

Aang stared at his hands, mind still reeling. They couldn't do this. They couldn't send him away. _Master Gyatso_…no one else would care about him. No one at the Northern Air Temple would know his as anything but the Avatar. They couldn't send him away, take him away from the only person who saw him as himself anymore, as just Aang. He wouldn't let them.

He would run away before they had the chance.

Even as triumph surged through him, Aang knew it made no sense. Where would he go? What would he do once he got there? Wouldn't leaving himself still take him away from the one he didn't want to leave? The last froze him, and he hesitated. Maybe it would be better to think this through more.

There was a soft knock at the door, and Monk Gyatso stepped in without waiting for an invitation. "Aang."

The young boy dropped back onto the bed. It was too late now. "I already know what you're going to say." _Nothing I can do to change it...I waited too long._

The monk nodded. "I thought you'd overheard us. Aang..." He crossed the room, and took the boy's hands. "I won't let them send you away."

Aang stared at him for a long while and didn't even realize he was crying until his mentor—his _friend_—took him in his arms to weep on his shoulder. When the tears were dry and he could speak, his words surprised even him.

"If I have to help fight a war, I want to fight it here with you."

Three months later, Aang got his wish.

_III._

The storm had come out of nowhere, and there was no way to fight through it. As the ocean churned and the waves finally overwhelmed Appa, the Avatar awoke for the first time.

But..._No!_ Aang had run away to escape his fate, not to give into it. He fought against this power, this soul that would have ruined everything if he hadn't left.

_I won't give in!_

For just a moment, the Avatar was overwhelmed. That was all it took for the ocean to claim its young victim.

_IV._

The water began to spurt through the iceberg, but Katara was too angry to notice. "That's it—I'm _done_ helping you!"

Sokka stared at the increasing danger and tried to warn his sister again, but she seemed to have frozen the words in this throat, too. Or maybe it was just fear.

"From now on, you're on your _own!"_

The iceberg shattered behind her, and Sokka found he _did_ have enough voice to let out a strangled, terrified whimper. Katara turned, startled, and a large chunk of ice dropped onto the top of her head.

As the waves rocked their little ice landing dangerously and threatened to swamp them, Sokka grabbed hold of his sister. "Katara! Hey, Katara, hang on!"

Her eyes fluttered weakly, then closed again. Sokka clung to her with one arm while he gripped their impromptu raft with another. There was no _way_ he was losing another family member, not when he could save her.

Katara's eyes opened again moments later, dazed. "Sokka, what-"

She wasn't focusing. Her eyes weren't focusing. Sokka made himself calm down and squeezed her hand tightly. "Katara. You're hurt. You have to get us back to the rest of the tribe."

"I-"

"Katara, I can't steer this thing!" His voice rose as panic threatened to resurface. "It's just basic waterbending. I know you can do it. You _have_ to!"

Something caused another round of waves to push them further back into the channel. Katara let out a soft moan, closed her eyes tightly, and began.

Sokka was too concerned for her to bother looking back at what had caused the second round of waves. They never saw the chunk of ice that Katara's fury had brought to the surface of the water...and they never saw the young boy still frozen inside of it.

_V._

The children practically climbed over one another to get at the new toys they had been presented with. "Mine! _Mine!"_

The monks watched intently as the children snatched at the toys that most struck their fancy, some fighting with others as they both reached for the same item, other happily dropping down where they stood and laughing gleefully at whatever their new gift could do.

Four toys sat notably without being taken up for nearly the entire hour. One or two children would take a look at one of them, then find something more interesting to capture their interest and leave the toy behind. None of the monks spoke, but all their thoughts were the same.

Young Aang was five when he heard his first stories about the Avatar, master of all the elements and bridge between the human and spirit worlds. He showed an aptitude for airbending, but otherwise was a very normal child who was that much more popular with his peers for his innovative airbending abilities. He was not aware of the discovery of the new Avatar at the Northern Air Temple, but enjoyed talking with his friends about where the new Avatar might be in between games on air scooters and gliding races. He never knew the significance of that day when he was still a toddler, when he and his friends had been allowed to choose their first toys. He had no idea that he only had a little over a decade of his life to live before the Fire Nation attacked and destroyed every living being at the Southern Air Temple. As far as he was concerned, his life couldn't have been happier.

Sometimes he dreamed of being the Avatar, and of great adventures and the exciting new people he would meet. But every young boy did that sometimes…and they were just dreams, nothing more.


End file.
